Extinction/Chapter 2
Born to Run is the second chapter of Extinction and the second part of Volume 1. It was released October 4, 2015. The second chapter continues to explore Conner's daily routine, where he continues to deny his true insanity. Just as his life continues to fall into the darkest pit, an unexpected event shakes up his routine, and has the potential to change everything he knows. Born to Run "You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control" - Megan Chance. --- “I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me Girl, you just don’t realize, what you do to me.” The lyrics of “Hooked On a Feeling” slither from the dried, cold lips, which surprisingly are shaped in that of a smile. A decent-sized, bright, joyous smile. Oh, now that was a weird thing indeed. Him? Smiling? A rare, no wait, an impossible sight. Yet, there he was. A smile on the face of a monster as he sings the lyrics of the elderly song. However, as if smiling wasn’t enough, the man was doing more. Something strange had to be happening for Conner didn’t look like his usual self. No, for instead his hair was brushed back, his beard wasn’t wild and he wore….decent clothes, to say the least. What stood out the most of this sight was what Conner was doing. Not just singing but dancing. Oh, and he wasn’t dancing alone. “When you hold me, in your arms so tight You let me know, everything’s all right. I’m hooked on a feeling! I’m high on believing That you’re in love with me!” Conner continued to dance around the room with his partner, together performing a magnificent slow dance. Her soft, small hands were glued to his shoulders while Conner’s find themselves on one part of her shoulder, another on her back. Like Conner, the woman was dressed fabulously, wearing a knee-length red dress. Red, the color of lust. One that seemed to intensify Conner’s love for the already beautiful woman. With long, youthful hair, tanned skin, white teeth and the fire of life burning in her eyes, she truly was a beautiful woman. One Conner was joyed to spend his life with. Conner smiled into her beautiful eyes as they continued to dance around the room, as if they were a energetic, youthful couple in a decent world. As if time had rewinded for them to dance to their song. Yes, their song. The song they first danced to, the song Conner sung to her under the hollow oak tree beneath the stars. “I hope you know that--that I love you. I don’t say it enough, not anymore.” Conner speaks softly to his lover, nervousness causing him to shake his fingers. “You, Ashley, are the love of my life. You deserve to hear that everyday.” Without warning Conner, placing his loving hands on her rosey cheeks, plants a surprise kiss. Much more than a peck, no, this kiss was passionate. This kiss was full of a wave of love. As their lips continued to meet, and as their body heat pressed against each other, it was as if fireworks filled the air around them. To Conner, it was pure perfection. Once the kiss was fulfilled, Conner pulled away from his wife, staring into the eyes which he fully thinks alive, unaware that they are white, hollow dents. In the reality of the world, Conner was dancing with a mannequin, one that was tall, slender, and dressed up by Conner; however, in the reality of his mind, he is dancing with his one true love. The one who has passed from this earth many years ago. “Lips as sweet as candy, its taste is on my mind Girl, you got me thirsty, for another cup o’ wine.” Smiling at his “beloved”, Conner gives her a brief, loving tap on the nose before turning his eyes to the back of the room. It is this sight that transitions Conner from that of a smooth romantic to that of a surprised, but yet, charismatic father. “Boys? What are you doing up? It’s--it’s past eleven!” Conner checks the cracked watch on his wrist. “You’re supposed to be in bed.” Positioned in the back of the room are two, white, hollow, child-sized mannequins. Like the one Conner claims to be his love, the two children have been dressed and shaped to resemble the ghosts of yesterday. Wearing pajamas, one wearing Batman ones while the other wears plaid like, the two mannequins watch with zero emotion in their empty, plastic bodies as Conner kneeled in front of them. Most would see them for what they are, but not this man. No, Conner saw them as two, living, real children of his. Each with touchable, caucasian skin, living eyes and shaggy hair like their old man. Patting his two boys on the shoulders, Conner’s once surprised expression turns to a charismatic, loving laugh. “Tell me, though. How was I? Was I smooth, huh? Does your old man still got it?” Conner ruffles each of their heads with a firm, loving grip. Oh, how Conner loved these boys. They were what gave him a prideful edge, as he felt nothing but pride for raising such good boys, as does his wife. Standing to his feet, Conner smiles as he looks around the room. With his two boys, his lovely wife, and Ms. Whiskers sitting in back, although in all reality it was just a cat statue, Conner never felt better. He hasn’t felt this happy in years. Conner Kilderry sure does love his beautiful family. ---- Family was such a wonderful thing. A group of people who you could share memories with, share your deepest feelings with, share your life with. Share these all without any doubts because you love them, and in return, they love you.Without family where would Conner be? They were what lit the fire in his soul, even to this very day. Which is why he walks around the ruin of Boston. Hat on, pipe in hand, backpack on, Conner was ready for go scavenging; not for him, however. No, his family needed some supplies. Ashley needed some hair products, the kids needed some games, and Ms. Whiskers needed some yarn or some shit. Conner was always the man to protect his family. They needed him, and in turn, he needed them. What would his life be without them? He’d be nothing! So thus he walks in the pounding frost of Boston, all with a smile on his face. No matter what the winds may blow his way, Conner strolls on through. A family man, a hard worker, and a good person. Who could hate Conner? Not as if he was insane or anything! No, no, no! Sane in the head! Turning down a deserted block, Conner eyes the stores that line on the sides. He knows he won’t find any food, as he has searched this area thousands of times, but the family supplies are most likely. Toys R Us and a beauty salon are among on the sides, so easy places to search. Making his way through the watery streets, Conner holds a joyous smile on his usual scornful face. Funny, considering the state of things. The world has fallen to pieces, inhabited hopeless, insane wanderers, who destroy and kill whatever stands before them. They understand what the world has become and they adapt to it, and thus, they become the very enemies they fought against; the enemies that destroyed their lives for twenty years. The ravaging, blood-craving, insane monsters that inherited the earth, taking out the remaining humans to fulfil their lust for our lifesource. They are the monsters of the night and the stalkers of the day. The infected. They murder any living human they see, and humans for some reason murder every living human they see. What a time to be alive. So, with this in mind, and considering his own experiences in his life, it’s pretty damn strange to see Conner like this. In his own, twisted reality he convinced himself that the world never went to shit; that, somehow, life was normal. Normal. In his mind he had a loving wife, two beautiful children and a cute little cat. As a man once said, “what fucks people up the most in life is the picture in our head of how it is supposed to be”. Well, Conner sure does have a different picture in his head, that’s for sure. As such, he has a smile. A fucking smile. “This is just sad, Conny.” The voice once again speaks to Conner. The calm, soothing, but yet, high voice that can be mistaken for the voice of the fallen sane. “I mean, seriously. What happened to you? Fuck you smiling for?” Conner’s eyes dart to his left, watching as he forms again. The manifestation of the demons form once again into Shane, who like his brother, holds a wide smile on his face. “I mean, I can smile. I love to smile. But you? Pfft.” Conner ignores his brother, instead continuing his path down the street. “What? Not happy to see me? Baby brother I’m offended! I mean you get the whole family back together, but you don’t invite me? I thought we had something special.” “Quiet.” Conner speaks to the imaginary person. “You’re not real.” “I--I’m not real? Really? Lemme ask you this, is any of it real? I mean, take a look around you. We’re in a fucking fantasy world, for fuckety-fuck’s sake!” Shane cries out to his brother whilst giving a joyous laugh. “I’m no less real than those old ‘totally not scripted’ ghost hunter shows. You wanna talk reality? Let’s talk about the Kilderry family!” “Shut up.” “Ashley, the not-unattractive wife. I don’t know you did it, but congratulations for picking that up. Then we got my two little nephews! Always the cuties, aren’t they? Of course, there is just the slight problem that--well, they’re all dead.” “Stop it.” “They died years ago, like, years ago. Did you forget? Because I didn’t! Which is weird, since well, I’m sort of you.” Conner’s glare to his brother only intensifies when Shane throws his arm around Conner like the cocky older brother. “Look, buddy, listen to your old-brother Shane here and listen to my words, kiddo. You’re crazier than a hoot! Stop denying it, it ain’t gonna do you any good.” “I’m not crazy.” “Not crazy? Don’t make me laugh, you funny boy! You’re in your own little reality, acting as if the dead are real. Don’t deny it. Give into it! Give into your pain, your misery, your will to relieve your past, your insanity. Give in, embrace it, become it! Imagine all the fun we’d have!” Shane steps in his brother’s way, resting his dead man’s hands on the dead man’s shoulders. “You’re a prisoner. What you call sanity is just a prison in your mind that keeps you from seeing the truth! You’re just a tiny, little clog in a giant, absurd, pointless machine. Wake up!” Shane slaps his brother in the face, a funny sight considering Shane isn’t real. So why Conner feels a hard slap from his brother, in real life, he just slapped himself across the face. Oh, schizophrenia, what a disease you are. Bending reality to turn even the finest of men into insane beasts, even if they deny. His heart fueling of rage, Conner grips his pipe with his tight, sweaty grip. With burning hatred steaming from his eyes, Conner lets out a scream to show his brother he isn’t one to be pushed over. “Shut up!” Conner swings the pipe at his brother, who upon contact with the deadly weapon, disappears from Conner’s reality. No, no, no. What Shane said wasn’t true. No, not to him. His family never died, they are alive and well. They’re happy, they’re loving, they’re alive, and everything is okay. The outbreak didn’t destroy his life, no no no. NO! Everything is normal. He has a family, he loves them. He is going to go home after his search, he is going to watch his kids play, he’s going to show his lovely wife how much he loves her, and he is going to have a great day with them! He is Conner Kilderry, and his life has never been better. Everything is okay, Conner tells himself. They are alive. Everything is okay. They are alive. Everything is okay. They are alive. Everything is okay. They are alive. Everything is okay. They are alive. Conner’s twisted reality sets back into his head, allowing him to form his own little world once more. A world where he is happy, a world where he saved his family from the damnation of hellfire; he is living in his little, perfect world. Such a perfect life. A life that only a sane man can live, of course! For Conner is a sane man, a family man, a happy man. Anyone who dare says otherwise will simply be erased from his reality, because his reality is the best one there is! Because why control your past and feelings when you can just run from them? Sure makes life easier. Taking the breath to calm his deeply disturbed nerves, Conner continues his walk amidst the ruins of Boston with his daily routine. He searches the once crowded buildings for the supplies he needs, the gifts for his family, and overall, just enjoying the solitary life he now lives. A life he used to dread, but now he can see the bright lights in his dark tunnel. For one there are no asshats on the street to ruin his day, no dumb kids to make him wonder about the next generation, no horrible drivers to stress his blood, no scum of the earth to make him fear for society, and no twisted politicians who pull their strings to keep their positions. Instead, it’s just Conner and his family in this lovely, ruined city that once shone with life, and now full of death and holding a growing forest inside it with it’s flooded streets and trees. Nature changes, laws change, and as so, man must change too. Turning down the flooded streets of Boston, everything is normal at first. Abandoned street is abandoned, stores to loot are ready to be looted, and nothing dangerous is in Conner’s way. The lack of Shane is also great, for man did Shane love to try and twist Conner into some insane villain. Everything was going good. Everything changed in a mere second, however. For as Conner walked down the road his frail eyes caught a movement. A slight, small, subtle movement, happening to the northwest of him. Quickly, expecting an infected, Conner raised his pipe to prepare himself for a fight to the death with the savagery beast. Instead, as the sunlight revealed the figure, it wasn’t an infected. No, far from one, actually. No infected here. Instead in it’s dreaded place was something much more surprising. A boy. A teenaged boy stood before him. Dashing black hair, hopeful blue eyes, clean white skin, a nervous smile and innocence emitting from him, this forsaken child stands in front of Conner, as surprised to see him as Conner is him. Impossible is all that ran through Conner’s mind. This isn’t real. The two strangers lock eyes for a moment, each observing the other. They were practically complete opposites, something that could scare any young man. But, yet, the shocked look on the boy’s face subtly turns into foolish, joyous, hope. “H--hi.” The boy gives an awkward laugh whilst speaking to Conner. “Are you--you know, not evil?” A nuclear explosion has just obliterated Conner’s reality into dust. Everything he has told himself to be true has been wiped away from him as he is faced with a stunning revelation; him and his family weren’t the last people left in Boston. He tried to turn this revelation around. Maybe this boy was just a phantom coming to torment him? It’s not very false, after-all Conner has dabbled with phantoms in the past. Yet, the way this child talks and moves doesn’t back up this theory very well. Conner remains stoic to the boy, which the boy finds slightly humerous. “Look, I’m not gonna bite. Especially not to someone like you.” The child points out the major size and strength difference between him and the elderly man. Lifting up his shirt to even reveal a small revolver, the boy drops it on the street at his feet. “I’m good, okay?” Conner nods his head as calm as he can. “My name is Ash.” The mysterious child introduces himself as Ash, a strange name for a strange boy. “And you are?” “Conner.” Conner is reluctant to give his name to the bomb. “I’m Conner.” “Thank God, I found you.” Ash approaches Conner, his hands still raised. He was oddly confident and hopeful for a kid, but Conner could see he was just as scared as Conner was right now. “I need your help.” The awe-strucken Conner continues to remain like a shy puppy to this boy, terrified as to what this Ash means to him. Not only does it mean there are more people out in this world, but they too won’t allow Conner’s reality to flourish. Conner knew this very well. After-all, who would let the world Conner built for himself remain true. “Who the fuck is this bitch?” Shane questions from Conner’s side, a snickering smile on his face. “This kid thinks he can just ask for your help? Pfft, this is hilarious. C’mon, Conny, grab that gun and shoot him. Shoot him right in that damn cute face of his! Whoops, that sounded awkward. Lemme rephrase that. Shoot his ass!” “I really need your help, mister.” Ash once again asks Conner, who continues to remain silent. On one hand he could listen to Shane and get rid of this monster, allowing him to remain free in his reality without anyone to pull him out. Than again, maybe Conner could search for that good hidden deep within him and help this poor, lost child? It would go a long way for helping Conner find the redemption he longs for in his life, along with that sense of purpose missing. This could be the greatest opportunity in his life! Conner regains control of his damned body and glances up to Ash. “No.” “E--excuse me?” Ash has to admit it’s not the question he expected, especially from such a lonely old man. “I won’t help you.” Conner speaks with such tone that it dampers the optimistic child. “Go.” “But--I need you! Please, you can’t leave me here!” Ash begs for help but the elder man turns his back on the boy, ready to leave this child to die in the depths of the city. “My dad is sick. Please, help me!” “You want help? Fine.” Opening his bag, Conner whips out a small, precious can. Food. A can of food that Conner was lucky to stumble on earlier today. Some good ol’ Tuna Fish, which isn’t terribly expired. It was set to be the family dinner but plans change. Conner throws the can at Ash with no regret or hast, barely giving Ash anytime to dodge the speeding sharp can. “Take my food. Take it--and fuck off.” “But--” “I said get the fuck out of here!” Conner’s rage of his false reality manifests itself into screaming at this poor child. He doesn’t give a damn who this kid is right now, all he knows is that Ash is messing up his reality. The reality where his life is full of joy and lacking any sorrow; if this boy breaks that then what will his life be? Back to the daily routines of pain and misery? Conner can’t allow that. He won’t live that life again! Not after what it did to him. Shane watches with a disappointed smile at the bloodless result, but is proud to see Conner reject this child the help he craves. It’s selfish, ruthless and devoid of any human heart--so naturally, Shane loves it. If he could he’d write a song about Conner! Actually, not a bad idea, now that he thinks about it. His original song was going to be Kill Kilderry but he rethinks that song now--maybe I Love My Heartless Brother is a better title. Conner marches through the flooded streets of the once great American city, ignoring the cries of a helpless child behind him. He leaves this child to rot in the floods of Boston, crying and begging for the help of a good man; too bad he met Conner, who continues to walk away from the area until his cries are nothing but a leaf in the wind. ---- He tried to enjoy dinner that night. He honestly tried to enjoy that nice family dinner he looks forward too every night. Who didn’t enjoy a fireside dinner, enjoying the peaceful air and the crackling sounds of flames as they chowed down on some expired tuna? Usually Conner did, but in light of recent events, his peaceful mind is filled with troubling, pulse pounding thoughts. All of them revolve one event. One person. One thing. A boy named Ash. That damned boy ruined his life. In a few minutes Ash ruined the life Conner has built himself. A life that he wanted to live in, a life he was ready to die a peaceful death in. After twenty years of torture it’s all he ever wanted; to live his final days in peace with a loving family. It wasn’t a horrible, selfish wish, especially after everything he has done. He saw his family grow corrupt and be sent to the damnations of hell, along with countless others of people he met. He himself was forced to do things that no man should have to do. Piece by piece his soul was torn to pieces as he did the acts of inhumane people do, forcing himself to turn from loving father to a monster of the night. He was the one who would prey on the helpless, he was the one who would leave a trail of death behind him, he was the one who would people would have nightmares about as they hid in the shadows, he was the the devil, he was Conner Kilderry! After years of abuse and torture to his soul, Conner was left to a broken man, forced to kill his own little kitten to survive! He ate his own cat! Conner was broken and tired of his life, so he decided to forge his own. Yeah, it’s stupid, very much so. He gets it, but he had maybe a few months left in his life. Why shouldn’t he be able to live those in a way he sees fit? If he wants to live a life of lies then he has that right. Yet, this boy changes that. Ash. Ashy-fucking-Ash. He knows helping that boy is the right thing to do, but he doesn’t see why he has to, personally. This boy will find someone else, Conner knows it. Just...ugh. Stressed by this dilemma, Conner slams his fist onto the dinner table, shocking his “family”. The mannequins who sit at the table, in Conner’s mind, are his dear family who jump at his freak-out. “What’s wrong, daddy?” Joseph, the eldest of the Kilderry children, asked with concern for his father. “Yeah, honey. Is everything okay?” Ashley asks from her seat, concerned for her stressed love, grabbing his hand in concern for him. Conner incorporates the feelings by grabbing her hand back, but it doesn’t help too much. “I just--I don’t know what to do.” Conner sighs with angsty. “I’m scared, my love.” “Of what?” Ashley asks her husband a simple question, yet, Conner doesn’t respond, holding back his answer of fear for another day. Instead, Conner just lets out another sigh whilst gripping his wife’s hand. “Honey, you can talk to me.” Conner looks up at her, watching as the face of his wife briefly resorts back to reality, showing him that he is really talking to a cheap mannequin. A mere blink later and that mannequin was once more his wife in his eyes. The young, beautiful woman he fell in life with. The one who died in his arms. He knows that one day he will have to accept that loss, but yet, he doesn’t know why he should. People are born with two legs for a reason: we’re born to run. Life is nothing but a running track for us to do with what we please. We can throw on a pair of nice running shoes and go for a run for as long as we want. We can run forever. Of course, Conner knows you can’t run forever and the day you need to come off the track will to rest will come; but he can’t do it yet. He can’t. He needs his family, and no way in hell is he gonna let them go soon. The mere acceptance that one day he will need to let go of the past has Conner let loose tears. The pure sadness, depression and fear all pour from Conner, reducing the man to a helpless child as he cries for his life, surrounded by nothing but phantoms of his life. This sick game of life--this sick fucking game! “Damn you!” Conner cries out to no one in particular except the magical thing that is life. “Damn you!” His phantoms, including the laughing Shane, all watch as Conner curses life. Life has done nothing but tear this poor man apart. What has he done to deserve this? Nothing. Conner’s mourning is cut short by a bang. A loud, echoing bang that rings from blocks away. A piercing sound, Conner recognizes it as only one thing. Looking out the window, Conner sees a bright light in the sky, like a flying flame. A flare. That can only come from one person, a person he knows holds a gun with them. A little boy named Ash, who is without a doubt sending a message to him. Standing to his feet, Conner looks out the window on his right. Through his tears he can see a small, but very visible, flicker in the night’s terrors. “Ooo, is the bitch dying? Figures. Kid didn’t look like he had the spine to survive so long.” Shane explains from Conner’s seat at the table, which he stole. “Now, back to this damn fine Tuna, shall we?” Conner remains rock frozen whilst staring out his window. Infected are sure to come running to that poor boy, and no way would he be able to fight them off. If Conner hurries there is a chance he can save him from the fate that sits before him. Turning back to his phantoms, and then once again back to the dying flare in the night sky, Conner knows what he has to do. ---- The place was a place recognized. He’s been there plenty of times, a sight he has spotted during his many walks of the city, before and after the apocalypse. An apartment building it is, or well, used to be. It wasn’t some fancy place, in fact it was pretty run down from what he remembers. But, like all people or things on this damned planet, it has a history. Before the world went to shit, he remembers hearing about a man who lived in one of the upper floors. Strange man, always talking to himself and ignoring his neighbors, as if he was living in his own little world. Ever since his appearance people would disappear randomly at night, as if a thief was stealing them. Gregory something, his name was. Last name slipped his mind, but he knew Gregory was the first. Well, when police searched Gregory’s apartment one day they found him eating dinner, watching the football game like a sane person…..except for that he wasn’t alone. Surrounding him were his kidnapped victims who he...froze. He used some sort of chemical to turn his victims into lifeless dolls, who would then put around his apartment to keep him company. Beautiful young ladies, young children, men his age, some older people….all of them were meant to be dolls of people from his past. When they threw on the handcuffs he simply asked that they don’t take his dolls away from him. A strange story it was, but one that always shook Conner to his core. What kind of madman would do such a thing? He knew not, but he always hoped he would never end up like that. Honestly though, horrifying how similar they are, right? Conner would never turn real people into his phantoms, however. Looking at the now run down building, with it’s broken doors, windows and stairs, Conner took a deep sigh before making his way in. No turning back now, right? If he was gonna help this kid, then this was his chance. So thus Conner walked into the lobby, taking note of the debris surrounding him. Building rubble at his feet, blood on the walls, skeletons on the floor, this wasn’t a particularly appealing place to a young boy, but hey, kid probably didn’t have a choice. “You can still go back, brother.” Shane begs Conner to walk away, but is yet again disappointed to find Conner walking up the aging staircase. “Don’t do it brother! It’s not worth it!” Ignoring Shane, Conner explores the desolate floors for signs of life. For the first few floors all that came to be were bloody, aging corpses and ransacked rooms. All sights that pull him back into the reality he has run from: the world is over, and death is everywhere. Death, misery, pain...no running from it. There was one thing he could run from, though. A boy, whom Conner soon spotted on the desolated fifth floor. The same hair, same beautiful eyes, same boyish charm. Dressed up in hamdy-down, ripped clothing, and holding an aging, rusted flare gun in his hands, Ash stares at the man who deserted him earlier. Their eyes meet, and oh, Conner can see it in Ash’s eyes. Disappointment, fear and anger, all making their ways out of his eyes as he watches Conner stand there. This was the man who ditched him in the flooded streets to die, the man who told him to fuck off, and a man he could tell was even reluctant to come to him now. Ash doesn’t know if he can trust Conner, or even like him, but he has to put that aside; he needs him, and that’s all that matters. Life isn’t about what you want, it’s about what you need to do. He’s been taught that for years, no matter what he thinks of that. That’s all his unfortunate life has been. So, putting on a boyish smile, Ash nods to his soon to be friend. “You came.” Conner stares at the boy, reluctantly coming over his stoic appearance this time. “...yeah.” He speaks in a gruff voice whilst looking away from the boy’s eyes. “I’m here.” “Not gonna tell me to--fuck off?” The boy asked him, prompting Conner to shake his head. “..No.” “Good. Good.” Ash nods his head whilst pointing to a room down the hall; the only room to have a light in it, no matter how faint it may be. “Come on.” Ash waits until Conner takes his first reluctant steps to the room before heading there himself. He wanted to make sure Conner wasn’t gonna run off, of course. So down the hall the two silent men walked, each of them frightened of the other, but having their own reasons of being here. The awkward silence is cut short when Conner arrives in the apartment building. It wasn’t much different from the other rooms. A small room composed of a kitchen, living room and bed (not even bathroom--had to go down the hall for that), it wasn’t a place Conner himself would like to live in. Yet, the one thing that stood out was the man lying on the worn out mattress, accompanied by the dim candle light. The man, late in his thirties despite a youthful appearance, was a man Conner instantly recognized as Ash’s father. Their similarities were just too hard to miss, after-all. Beautiful dark brunette hair, light blue eyes and clear white skin aside, this man also held a subtle beard, pale skin and a few bruises. Here was Ash’s father, reading an ancient comic book, about the adventures of the Green Arrow, on the bed. “Dad.” Ash spoke up, prompting the father to look up at them, forcing himself to give a smile. “I found someone.” The father gives a weak smile to his soon. “Good job, Ash. I--I knew you could do it.” The father coughs mid-sentence, showing even more how much of a frail state he finds himself in. Turning to Conner, the father nods his head. “Thank you.” Conner remains responseless, just giving the subtle nod of his head. “I’m Josh.” Ash’s father introduces himself as Josh. “Thank you--so much for coughing.” Josh coughs midway his sentence, and by the end, chuckles at his own mistakes. “Coming, sorry. Coming. This shit makes my brain dead.” “Yeah. Yeah.” Conner quietly replies, for the most part keeping his stoic appearance whilst watching Josh interact with Ash. Something bad has happened, but something even worse was coming. The way Ash tries not to cry, the way Josh attempts to hug him but can barely move….it had the signs of someone’s track coming to an end. So, instead of speaking, Conner leans in the back, trying his best to ignore their conversation, not wanting to intrude. “I don’t want to leave you…” Ash tries to tell Josh but Josh only shakes his head, he himself trying to hold back his tears. “I can’t come with you. You know that, son.” Josh looks up at Conner, who has done his best to remain silent in the back. “I was bitten.” “Oh.” Is all Conner replies, not needing or really wanting to hear anymore, but Josh continues. “Snuck up on me, you know?” Josh coughs upon finishing his sentence, yet, keeps his witty smirk. “I guess we all gotta fuck up somewhere on the line.” Summoning his energy, Josh rubs his hair through Ash’s hair whilst pulling him in for a deep, loving hug that only a father could give. Conner knows the hug full well; it’s one he gave many times. “I--I tried to make it as far as I could, but it’s taking over me. I can feel it.” Josh continues to speak to Conner. “The voices, the lust, the anger…..I’m turning into one of them.” “I’m sorry.” “Yeah. Yeah, I am too.” Josh continues to hold Ash in his arms whilst Conner watches. “But we all can’t run forever, right...uh…” “Conner.” “Conner. We can’t run forever, right?” Oh, how Conner wanted to run forever. Running from death, running from his past, running from it all. So, he doesn’t answer Josh’s question, instead allowing Josh to continue. “Do you mind if--I talk to you? Alone.” Conner nods to Josh, something Josh appreciates as he turns towards to his little boy, still keeping on that smile. “Why don’t you go down to that room down the hall? Where the toys and comics are.” “Dad--” “Ash.” Josh firmly stops his son as he softly places his finger on his lips. “Let me speak to Conner, man to man. It won’t take long. I promise.” Ash didn’t want to leave his father, especially when he was this late to death opening it’s arms to him, but Ash nods his head and reluctantly walks out of the room, leaving the two men alone. The two men who have lived since before this outbreak, who each have their own past, phantoms and demons. Yet, look how different they are. For a few seconds they are silent, both afraid of the other, especially when it came to what too say. They probably haven’t had a good conversation with another adult in a while; well, an adult that wasn’t a ghost. “I’m sorry for having to do this.” Josh admits. “I know survival is hard enough for yourself but to follow my son here--just thank you.” “Don’t thank me.” “Oh, but I do.” Josh continues to muster up his strength to speak, something that impresses Conner. “I need your help.” “You can’t fix a bite this far in--” “No, no. Not that. I’m dead as hell, this ain’t about me.” Josh does his best to not focus on his impending demise, but instead, the boy that was in the other room. “I have two requests for you.” “What are they?” “Firstly--I need you to do it.” Josh nods over to the revolver Ash had earlier, which finds itself sit on the coffee table next to Josh. It was a small weapon, but oh, it was one that could pack a punch. “I can’t let Ash do it. He’s my son. But you….we don’t know each other, we’re both men. Survivors. If you could do it I’d be so appreciative.” “I can do that.” “Good, that was the easy question.” Josh snickers, much to Conner’s nervousness. His heart hasn’t ran this fast in a long time, that’s for sure. “Before this happened we were heading to the south. We heard reports of a safe-zone down there. On the coast.” A safe-zone? Now that was funny. As far as Conner was concerned they all fell years ago to the infected beasts. He heard reports about Miami….but he stopped paying attention to it after hearing about the unusual and corrupt events taking place there. “I can’t take him and he definitely can’t make it on himself. I know we’re strangers, but I need you to take him there.” The dreaded question strikes Conner in the stomach, rendering him immobile as Josh continues to speak. “It’s not an easy question, I know. But it’s a safe-zone, if not the last one standing. This benefits us all so much. You can both be safe, and I know that my son will be in safe hands. He’s a good kid, you know? Not some monster or bitch or anything. He knows the basic skills to handle himself--and he’s smart, very smart, and funny. He has a lot of hope, too. Not a bad thing, especially today, right?” Josh notices the struggle that takes place in Conner’s eyes. The war of good and evil, sanity and insanity, respect or disrespect, father and former father, life and death. Oh, if Conner takes this his life would be forever changed. He would need to let go of the past, take this boy under his wing, accept reality and….head back out into the fallen, demonic world that is now earth. Plus, oh god the stuff he would need to do survival. There would be no more happiness for the aging Conner...just nothing short of pain and misery. “I know I’m not much of some sales person here, not really good at convincing you to do this, but I beg you, man. Man to man, please save my son.” “What the fuck is this? This fuck is a fuckety-fuck like his bitch-ass son.” Shane laughs from the corner of the room, smiling at this man’s begging and demise. “My advice? Shoot this fuck, shoot the kid, take their shit. Maybe you can make it home in time to watch Keeping Up with the Kardashians with Ashley!” Conner struggled with the answer. All the stuff he would need to do...he doesn’t want to do that again. Yet, this is a chance he’s been waiting for. For a long time Conner wanted purpose in this life of nothing, he wanted redemption for all his sins, and this was his chance. Save the kid, save his soul. Get this kid to this zone and he can die a happy man, a man who has redeemed himself and protected this innocent child. An honorable death. Conner is about to say yes, when his mind drifts back to his family. Ashley, Joseph, Vincent….he would need to let them go. It would be time to take off those running shoes and go back to the reality. He’s lived his life with them for years that he can’t even imagine a life without them anymore. They are his phantoms, and his phantoms are apart of him. They have become apart of this new reality of his, where he is happy enough right now. He doesn’t need the happiness of redemption when he has this with him. He--he can’t stop running. No, no, no. He can’t accept it, not yet, not ever. Without his family he is nothing but a failure. “No.” Conner replies to Josh, much to the man’s shock. Hell, the dude jumped out of his seat practically. “W-what?” “I won’t help your son.” Conner speaks to him, his voice shaking with the turbulence of emotions that shoots through his blood like adrenaline. Shane, who has been watching from the corner, jumps from his seat with excitement. “That’s the spirit, Conner!” Shane shouts, as Josh looks dumbfounded at Conner. “But--Conner. Please, I--” “''No!” Conner won’t let them destroy his reality. His family is alive, the world hasn’t gone to shit. ''Everything is okay. They are alive. He’s not leaving, he won’t become that survivor again. His phantoms are his family, and he needs them. Even the thought of leaving them…..of accepting the demise of them….it makes him angry. All his emotions are formed into this burning, deep hatred. In a sudden instance, Conner grabs the revolver on the table, happy to fulfill the first request. “No!” Conner screams once more, and despite Josh’s attempt at a plead, Conner won’t listen. This is his life. This is his sane, normal life. Conner is drawn out of his emotions by a loud, sudden bang, following the flash of a spark at his hands. Jumping to his feet at the sound, Conner looks down at Josh, the once loving father having been carried away by death’s arms, it’s mark having left a fresh bullet in his head. In shock Conner drops the revolver, his hands quickly running through his hair as panic sweeps into his body. What has he done? Fuck--fuck! He shouldn’t have come here, he shouldn’t have left his precious family. The footsteps of Ash running down the halls only reminded him of this. Fuck, what was he gonna do with the boy? As Conner panicky looks around the room, he finds Shane in the corner of the room. With a wide smile and the clap of his cold, imaginary hands, Shane most definitely approved of his brother’s choice, and damn, was he proud of him. Oh, how his brother was born to run. ---- |next = }} Category:Extinction Chapters Category:Extinction Category:Issues